The Pursuit is On
by Sika'sheart
Summary: Harry, Ron, and Hermione must find Dumbledore's gradndaughter. The problem is she's also Voldemort's granddaughter. Will she help them or him. Cross over with Tammy's Circle of Magic charaters
1. Chapter 1

The Pursuit is On

Disclaimer:

None of these characters in this chapter are my own. I've written this story for my first fan fiction and because I love J.K.'s and Tammy's work.

Chapter 1: Who is she?

"I'm relieved all of you could come," Professor McGonagall, a stern faced no-nonsense woman with dark brown hair streaked gray, said as 18 year olds Harry Potter, a messy haired boy with startlingly green eyes, and Hermione Granger, a bushy brown haired, brown eyed girl, and six of the seven Weasley children, all with flaming red hair and blue eyes, came tramping into Professor McGonagall's study. "I wasn't so certain all of you would come," she said, facing Harry, Hermione, and one of the Weasley about their age in particular.

"Of course we came," said the two, identical, twenty year old Weasley twins.

"I knew you would come Fred, George," she turned to the only Weasley girl. "I told your mother I wanted to speak with _you _the generally Ginny."

"'Bout what exactly?" asked Ginny, the youngest and only girl of the Weasley children. "Mum didn't tell me _what_ you wanted."

"That's because I didn't tell her what I was going to ask you, but we'll get that in due time, but right now I want to talk to Harry, Ron, Hermione, Bill, and Charlie. _Alone_."

"Then why did you call all of us?" asked Fred, or was it George? Oh, what does it matter, anyway? "Don't bother answering," he waved his hand at her. "We'll leave," His eyes sparked mischievously. "For now." Before they left the room Harry saw him pull Extendable ears halfway out of his pocket. None of them put up a fight, which is what they all would usually do.

McGonagall waited a few moments to be sure they had gone done the spiral staircase and past the gargoyle, before turning back to face Harry, Hermione, and the three remaining Weasleys.

"I found this the other day," and from behind her desk she pulled up Dumbledore's old pensive.

"His pensive?" Harry asked unbelievingly. "You knew about it."

"Harry, that night, a year ago, when you left the grounds with him," McGonagall began to say as Harry's face fell into despair. "Harry I hate to do this to you, but I need to know if he said anything um… _bizarre_."

Harry's lips twisted into a half smile. "When didn't he say anything bizarre?" everyone smiled including Fred, George, and Ginny standing outside the gargoyle.

"Did he... maybe...blame himself for… anything? At all?"

"Like…?" Hermione pushed.

"You know what," Harry said, popping back into the conversation, "he did. His exact words were, _'It's all my fault, all my fault. Please make it stop, I know I did wrong, oh please make it stop and I'll never, never again…' _But I don't think he realized he said it."

"I think I should tell you what his words mean," McGonagall sat in the chair before the pictures of past headmasters and –mistresses. "Dumbledore has… no _had_ a granddaughter," the five shucked in their breaths, "she died when she was four, along with her parents. Professor Dumbledore has always blamed himself for her death. While she was living he doted on her." McGonagall impatiently dashed away the tears that were forming in her eyes. "He was never the same after that."

_Much like _I_ blame myself for Professor Dumbledore's, _Harry thought to himself.

"How did she die? Did _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_ do it?" Ron managed to squeak out through his terror.

"You-Know-Who didn't do it. Dumbledore never found out who did, but he used to swear that when he did he would kill them in the most fearful way he could think of." She placed her hands on either side of the pensive. "This pensive holds most of Dumbledore's memories, including the one where he had went to check on his family and found his daughter and her husband dead, and his granddaughter, Gabriela, missing. His first thought was of finding her and in his mind the fastest way would be to go after Voldermort, who he had thought had done it."

"Naturally," Bill said, "I would think so too!"

"Why?" Hermione asked. "We get she was Dumbledore's granddaughter and would've been a huge lever over him, why _a four year old_? Why not his _daughter_?"

"It wasn't because she was _Dumbledore's_ granddaughter. It was because she was extremely powerful, more powerful than any other witch, even greater then either Voldermort or Dumbledore. And because, well, She's also _Voldermort's_ granddaughter, too!"

There was pounding on the staircase and in came Fred, George, and Ginny, all of them shouting, before the door was even all the way open, "What!?"

McGonagall sighed. "I had hoped this wouldn't have gotten around."

Charlie, completely ignoring his younger siblings, asked, "What is it that you want us to do with this information?"

"Not what _I_ want you to do, but _Dumbledore_ wants you to do." The eight of them gave her strange looks, saying '_He's dead, he can't talk to us_.' She reached into her robes and pulled out a roll of parchment. She tossed it to Harry, and because of his _extraordinary_ snitching skills, who caught it without even glancing its way. "I found that two days ago wedged in the desk drawer, it's from him." No one needed to ask who _"him"_ was.

Harry unrolled the parchment and Began to read,

"'_Dear Harry, Hermione, the 7 Weasley children, and Minevera,_

_Yes I know it will be you ten reading this letter, a year or maybe longer after my death, for all I know it could be only hours after my death._

_The reason why I'm writing this letter to you is because I don't believe my little Ellie is dead. She is alive somewhere, I just know it. Follow my memories and I beg of you to find and protect her from Voldermort. He is bound to go after her now that I am dead. Harry I have reasons to believe that she has one of the _you-know-what's. _Voldermort had stashed it onto her._

_Minevera, Harry, do not blame yourselves for my death. It was bound to happen. Harry _never_ lose your curiosity, it is one of greatest attributes. It will help you finish the work I have left onto you._

_Make sure Lupin and Tonks never give up on their love, it will help them get by in the days ahead. Harry, I believe in you._

_With all the love in my heart, _

_ Professor Albus Dumbledore_

_P.S. If need be when you find her, if she is like Voldermort do with her as you like. But _please_ no matter how much you hate her for her blood, give her a fair shot.'" _Harry looked up at everyone; all of them had shock written all over their faces and their bodies were all tense.

"There might be another Dark Lord… Lady out there." Bill whispered. "This cannot reach the ears of the minister."

"That is the reason why Percy isn't here." McGonagall confirmed.

Ginny grinned evilly. "Also, he's a git." Everyone's face broke into grins like hers and nodding in agreement. "Now, will you tell us what Fred, George, and me are doing here?"

"Bill, Charlie, Harry, Ron, and Hermione will be going to that other world to track Gabriela down, but of course we need three very clever people, mind you they need to be good at making up stories, to cover for them. We cannot let the Minister find out, he will eat the poor girl alive. Saying if they can capture and kill Voldermort's granddaughter, who is supposed to be more powerful then him, then they could surely do the same to him as well."

"Twisted logic," Charlie murmured.

"Who is she?" Gionny asked.

"A young woman in that other world, that Dumbledore had placed Gabriela in."

"That gives us a lot of detail to go on," Ron muttered. Hermione elbowed him.

"What does she have to do with this _War_?" Charlie asked ignoring Hermione and Ron who had started to argue, loudly.

"She's a powerful witch, even if she's not like You-Know-Who ever side will want her on _their_ side."

"And if she is?" Bill asked, Running his hand through his hair, that had been let down today.

Minevera's face turned grim. "Don't worry about that, bring her back here and the Order of the Phoenix, will judge whether she is most like Dumbledore or Voldermort." She stood up. "Let us go into Dumbledore's memories and hope there is a clue there that will led us to her."

_It was a small cabin, nothing special, only big enough for two people, if squeezed they could fit a small child in as well. Dumbledore, his hair and beard not completely white wearing bright pink robes dusted with cobwebs, making it look like he had locked it in a trunk for several hundred years and decided to wear it without first cleaning it off. The matching pointed hat had several large black spiders crawling up and down it. Ron seeing this started to whimper, forgetting that memories couldn't touch them as they couldn't touch them. Floating behind Dumbledore was a trunk, filled so much it bulged at the sides._

_"Elli!" Dumbledore called in a singsong voice. "I have presents for you. Come out, come out where ever you are." Dumbledore had almost reached the door, but instead of seeing a _door_, he saw into the house._

_Lying on the floor was a blond haired, blue-eyed woman and a brown haired green-eyed man, in bloodied robes. _

_"Gabriela!" Dumbledore shouted, with a thump the trunk hit the floor bursting open and sending little girl toys everywhere. The head of one of the dolls went flying. He began to run into the cabin. "_Gabriela! Please _come out!" he stepped over the bodies of his daughter and son-in-law. He ran into a little side room, it was painted pink , had a hand-made pink rug on the floor, and on the walls were drawings the little girl had done herself, all of them in amazing detail. In one, you could tell, was Dumbledore with a blue-eyed girl on his shoulders._

_Dumbledore got down on his knees and looked under the bed, all that was there were dust bunnies. "_Elli!"_ he called falling into himself. "It's all my fault. All my _fault_!"_

"Did you notice anything that was out of the ordinary?" McGonagall asked.

"It looked like any other home, for a small family, almost like Fluer's and mine." Bill answered.

"No it didn't." Charlie argued. "There were objects, magical objects, that don't exist in our world. The only room that looked ordinary in our perspective would be Gabriela's. The only things of our world were the dresser, bed, and the pink rug."

"We have to find that cabin, only there will the true clues lie." Harry said.

"If it still exists," Ron muttered, Hermione smacked him on the head. "Hey, '_Mione_, don't do that."

"_Ronald_!" Hermione scolded him, finally losing her patience with him. "That cabin is our only clue to her. We _must_ find it. But how?"

"Do they have magic in this world?" Bill asked. "If they do we might be able to recruit some of them to help."

"There are," McGonagall said, smirking, "and better. Everyone knows about magic."

"That means we can use magic openly." Harry said, beginning to smirk himself. "This has just gotten a _whole_ lot easier."

"Now, how do we start?" Charlie asked.

"Simple," Bill answered, "we head to that world. Let's go pack. There's no telling how long we'll be there, but we know it will be a long time. I just hope we're back for…"


	2. A Starge Dream

**Author's Note**:

Only three characters in this chapter belong to me. Mejai, Mejia, and Somali. The rest, the one's you are familiar with belong to Tamora Pierce!! If you see any mistakes with the characters descriptions please tell me. Review, please.

**Chapter 2**: A Strange Dream 

_"Open the door!" came a gruff voice. Causing the little girl who lay asleep in her bed burst into wakefulness. "We have presents for you, little girl." And the man banged on the door again._

She was lying on her bed, in the middle of her pink painted pink room. Her bed was on the wall farthest away from the door, her headboard underneath the only window, now throwing light starlight into the room and red moonlight. On the wall by the door was her dresser her grandpa had given her to mark there move here, it was painted a pink to match the room, besides the knobs, which were shaped like roses and painted white. On the floor, in the shape of a daisy, was a thick pink rug. On the walls were drawings she had done on thick parchment, after her daily lessons. 

_How did she get here? The last thing she remembered was falling asleep in her Daddy's arms, her Mommy singing her a lullaby. How did she get in her room? Daddy, with his strong arms must have carried her in. She loved it when he carried her. She wished she had been awake to enjoy it._

_Another crash came from the other room. "_Daddy_!" she called. She heard her Mommy scream and start to cry. _"Mommy_!" she jumped up and out of the bed and ran to the door. She twisted the doorknob this way and that trying to open it, but no matter how hard she pulled, it wouldn't open. "Let me out! _Mommy! Daddy_!" The only answerers were more crashes and her Mommy screaming and crying louder than ever. Something must be wrong with Daddy, because Mommy never cries. "Daddy what's wrong? Mommy is Daddy ok?" the little girl sank to the floor crying._

_"Let's leave. We can't get into the other room." The gruff voice came again._

_"What about her?" came a sleazy voice, there came a thump and a moan from her mother. _

_"_Mommy_!" the little girl cried again. "_Where's Daddy_?"_

_"Just kill her," the gruff man yelled over the little girl's screams, "take that ring off of her finger. It looks…"_

_"_No_!" the woman shouted. The ring came fling under the door, rolling to a stop at the little girl's feet._

_It was the ring her Daddy had given her, the year she was born. It was a gold band with pretty stones on it of many different colors. It was probably expensive._

_"Blast down that door with the jelly. I _want_ that ring! And while you're in there grab the little girl."_

_"Run, baby. _Run_!" the woman screamed. "We'll come…" and with a gurgle the woman's voice died. _

_"Annoying _bird_," the man muttered as he clumped over to the door. "Well, what are you _waiting_ for? Get the jelly!"_

_The little girl clutched her Mommy's ring to her chest. She was scared, oh so scared. So, scared she was that she was shaking like a leave. Her mind was clouded; she knew her parents were dead._

"Baby girl listen to me_," came her father's voice._

_"Daddy? She whispered, beginning to cry when she realized the voice was coming from her memories, but she decided to listen to the voice any way. _

_"_If we are ever attacked go under the rug. There is a secret passageway that will bring you to safety. Someone will come and get you when the danger has passed._"_

_"I'll do it Daddy." She whispered._

_"Hand me _that_!" came the voice once more._

_Quickly the girl stood up and rushed to the rug, only stopping once to pick up a beaten porcelain doll, the one her grandpa had given to her, and to drop her mother's ring into the doll's secret compartment next to a small box. She picked up the rug and with it came a trap door. Someone who didn't know it was there wouldn't be able to open it. Those men won't be able to._

_She jumped into the hole, letting the trapdoor fall back into place behind her. She ran down the stairs in complete darkness, but she didn't mind, she wasn't afraid of the dark, it was those men who frightened her beyond believe. Hours and hours passed by, with the end of each hour her eyes sagged lower and lower. Finally, she had reached the end. With the last of her strength the little girl climbed out. She collapsed by the side of a main road. Exhausted, but happy._

_"Little one?" came a man's voice, gently. She looked up; fearful the men had caughtened up to her. There was a tall blue-eyed, blond-haired man. "Are you alright?" she slowly, and cautiously nodded. "Where are your parents?"_

_His words broke her down. Running into his arms she screamed, "_They_ killed them! The bad _men_ killed _MamaPapa_!"_

_"Sush, now little one. I will care for you. I promise." And the man scooped her into his arms and carried her, like her Daddy use to, to his party. The guards closed around them. "My love," he said to petite light brown haired woman with eyes to match, "the gods have blessed us with another child, to make up for the one we lost."_

_The woman started to cry making her already puffy face even puffer. She took the child from her husband's arms. "We have been blessed, 'tis true." She turned the little girl's face to each side, inspecting her. "We have both been through a lot," she pulled the girl closer, "but with each other's help we can forget the pain bad men had bestowed upon us." The little girl wrapped her arms around the woman and began to cry._

_"What is your name?" the man asked her when her cries dyed away. She refused to answer. "Well, we _must_ call you _something_."_

_"_Sandrilene_," the woman said, "after my grandmother."_

_"Sandrilene it is, then."_

"_Sandry_!" came a little girl's voice. The little girl shook her. "_Mamma Sandry_! Wake up!"

"I'm up," Sandry muttered groggily.

"Open your eyes," the girl demanded.

"Mejai!" Sandry said sitting up in her bed and glaring at the tussled dark brown headed, hazel eyed girl, with eastern skin tone, one of the twins that she had come to love in the past four years. "I am _up_!" and she jumped out of the bed before the girl could demand that. "Now, what do you _want_?"

"Braid my hair," and she pushed her brush in Sandry's hands, "_please_ Mamma Sandry?" Mamma Sandry, it was a pet name the kids… _her_ kids, had given to her.

Almost nine years ago, after she had come back from Namorn, she had wanted to do something with her life, something useful. For a few months she played around with the idea of starting up a school. But she didn't want to go to far from her Uncle. So she started to ask around about property around Summersea, surely she could find some place nearby and she did. It was equal distance from Winding Circle and Summersea. There were only two problem: one, the road had been washed away in a flood years ago and two, the house was practically nonexistent. But of course she wouldn't give up there.

She had gone to Winding Circle's carpentry shops, she convinced them to take a look at the place. They had told her that it _could_ be made livable again in, maybe, a year's time if she found some good carpentry mages and stone mages. They were too busy at Winding Circle to help themselves. Almost out of ideas she went to Moonstream, head dedicate of Winding Circle, who helped her by taking her to some of the greatest mages in that area who was then, currently, living in Summersea. In a fortnight the work had started.

At first she had kept her idea a secret from Daja, Briar, and Tris. Sandry didn't want them to think she had gone mad. Though, maybe, she _had_. But then they had started to worry about her. She was always up late working on a _"project"_ and when she actually made plans to eat dinner or midday with them, it was, normally, cancelled. They thought she might be in trouble, debt, or in love, and didn't want their interferences. When they found out what she was really up to they scolded her for not telling them sooner and up and joined in. In a year's time 'The Circle School' was open. Orphans were chosen and sent. But in a few years other kids from merchants and nobles had begun to bring their children here. The four were more than happy to take them.

Any mages, after learning the basics were sent to Winding Circle for training, except for the few that were chosen by a mage that worked at the school, or were visiting.

Every once in a while a young couple, not being able to have a child of their own, would come and adopt a child, but normally, the majority of the kids stay till they are eighteen or nineteen.

Mejai and Mejia, the twin six year olds, Sandry had found four years ago, clinging to their parents blue poxed riddled bodies in Hajra (Briar and Sandry had gone there to deliver the cure) were now her foster daughters, she had adopted them, because she thought she would never have children of her own and she still believed it. Mejai, the one whose hair she was braiding was a thread mage and her student. Her twin sister was a plant mage and Briar's student.

"Dutchess?" and in came no other then Briar Moss, her older brother and her best friend. He had creamy colored skin, telling of his eastern descent, dark curly hair cropped close to his head, and gray-green eyes, plus he was a little over six feet. His looks made most girls melt in their tracks. She wasn't among them. "Your already up?"

"_Hi_, Papa Briar!" Mejai said her eyes twinkling. Briar and Sandry both knew that the kids hoped they would fall in love and marry. Hadn't happened yet and it never will.

"Hey Mej'." He called Mejai, Mej' and Mejia, Meji'. Sandry finished up the girl's braids. "Go get dress, you don't want to get a penalty." The little girl squeaked and ran from the room his eyes sparkled. "You better get dressed, too! The kids would _love_ to give _you_ a penalty."

"They wouldn't give their _Mama Sandry_ a penalty." Sandry said beginning to brush her hair.

"I thought that they would never give _me _one, but they did." He came over and towered above her. He took the brush from my hands. "You really should get a hair cut." He said brushing Sandry's long light brown hair.

"It's nice long." She countered.

"It's beautiful if you let it down, but you don't."

"It's _my_ hair and I'll do what ever I want with it." Sandry said, her cornflower blue eyes flashing dangerously. "Besides, it's not easy to teach or work with it down and always getting in my way." He twisted her hair into a coronet.

"What's wrong?" he asked as he pinned it in place.

"Huh?"

"You seem distracted and you, who is _normally_ up before dawn, have been waking up late. You've been distracted this past year."

"_Year_?" she asked. "I have _not_ been distracted for a whole _year_!"

"Yes, more and more with each passing month. I don't think it'll get better, kid."

"I'm not a _"kid"_ anymore," he gave her a wicked smile, dropped a kiss on her forehead and left the room, "and I have _not_ been distracted!" a scene from her very vivid dream flashed through her head. "Ok, something _is_ going on, but the problem is I don't know _what_. And it doesn't help that I'm _talking _to myself." She slipped out of her nightgown 'till the only thing she was in was her breast band and loincloth. She went over to her wardrobe and pulled out a plain blue dress with little embroidery and none of the usual lace. As she began to walk out the room she pulled the dress over her head. Not need to give the teen-age boys the joy of seeing their first half naked woman; at least she hoped their first.

Little children pushed past her, pushing and shoving to get down the stairs and into the dining room. The girls from the ages of two till twelve were Sandry's as the boys from that age range were Briar's. That is the reason why we got the pet names Mama Sandry and Papa Briar. Tris had the teenage girls and Daja had the boys, they were the "Aunts". Not the ones you go to for comfort, but the ones you go to for advice. They were great at keeping teenage hormones under control.

"Mama Sandry," came voices from every direction as the teens came down the stairs from the forth (Daja's) and the fifth (Tris's) floors.

"Hey…" Sandry called out to the kids she had known for years, smiling to the ones who have been here a month or less. They, who had seen some things that would make most people cringe, gave unsure smiles back, they weren't sure if this was really happening, that they were really off the streets.

Tris, a fiery red head and sharp, piercing gray eyes wearing brass-rimmed glasses, followed her charges, barking Rosethorn like, one of the four's foster mothers. "Somali pick _up_ those feet!" Tris shouted especially at her student for wind magic, who kept tripping over her to long robe. Sandry made a mental note to adjust the hem in a day or two. "Hey, Sandry!" she called, causing Sandry to jump afraid to be the next turned on. "What are you afraid I'll bite?" she asked, coming to stand by her friend. Sandry gave her a weary smile. "Sandry you look _exhausted_. What's…?"

Sandry laughed. "I have already heard this from Briar and I'll probably hear it from Daja _and_ from Lark, Rosethorn, and Uncle who are visiting later today, around midday break."

"But _is_ something wrong?"

"I don't _know_. When I sleep I feel like I wasn't sleeping, but running around in circles like Little Bear does when Glaki feeds him chocolate." Glaki was Tris's… well Tris saved her from either being put out on the streets or pushed from foster home from foster home and Little Bear was the dog Sandry had saved from those merchant boys, it was when the four of them truly started to become friends. "When I _don't _sleep something pulls me. I feel this strange presence _pulling_ me. It gets _stronger_ with each and every day." Sandry started to cry. "It _wants_ me Tris." She tapped her chest. "Something in here." The children looked at her, tears filling their eyes as well, they wanted to comfort the woman who cared so much for them when no one before her had. Some of them even moved forward to do just that, but a glare from "Aunt Tris" sent them scurrying back down the stairs and into the dining room for breakfast.

"Come _on_ Sandry," Tris said putting her arm around her and pulling her away from the kids and back into her bedroom. She sent a mental message to Daja and Briar to come to Sandry's room and help her comfort her. Let Pasco, Evvy, and the other mages in charge handle the children.

In a few moments time all four of them were cluttered in Sandry's room, Briar sitting in the middle of the bed with Sandry weeping into his lap. Tris sat on the edge of the bed rubbing Sandry's back as she cried. Daja, a chocolate skinned trader with black hair braided close to her head, leaned against the closed door, twirling her staff around and around in anger.

"It's _just_ a dream, Dutchess," Briar consoled her, "nothing but a _dream_."

"You weren't _there_!" Sandry said, trembling. "It was _horrible_, so real, it wasn't," she shouted, then she continued her sentence in a voice so low you had to strain just to hear, "it _wasn't_ a dream."

He pushed the hair that was falling into her face back. "Of _course_ it was and even if it wasn't, it wouldn't matter."

"I feel something calling out to _me_, every night as I sleep. That… dream gets _clearer and clearer_ every night! I heard people _die_! Briar, I heard… I heard my parents, the people who raised me, give me the name _Sandrilene_ after I refused to give them my _name_!"

"You're just feeling guilty about something, "Daja said, finally putting her input on things, "when we find out what, you can clear your conscience and be free."

"I'm _not_ feeling guilty," Sandry said, putting her feet onto the floor and standing up. "Something is calling to me and _I'm going to find out what_." She must find that doll, the doll she called Sasha all of her life, the doll her parents had taken away from her when she was eight, because she wouldn't eat her vegetables. It must be somewhere here or at the citadel, the places were all the remaining things of her parents were and if need be she would write to her cousin up north. He might know where it is. "I need the key Daja!" Daja, half stunned by Sandry's sudden change in moods, didn't move.

Sandry used a little of her thread magic and called the key, which was on an orange ribbon, to her. She left the room, went down the stairs, almost falling on the waxed floor, but she did a turn that Skyfire taught her to save herself, and into a side hallway. At the left side of the hall, the last door there was a 'Forbidden Area; Stay _away_ children' orange sign. Daja's area charge, her forge was down there. As Sandry got closer to the door she slide again, this time barely able to do the turn and save herself.

Sandry put the key in the door and began to turn it, but a dirt streaked hand covered hers, stopping her.

"_Briar_!" she practically shouted turning towards him. "What do you _think_ you're _doing_?" it wasn't Briar it was Rosethorn. "Rosethorn? Oh, man I'm sorry I yelled at you. Briar…"

She just shrugged her shoulders. "It's your house, but I had looked down the hallway and saw you standing here, barely moving."

"What? I was just about to go down into the basement. What time is it? You're early. You weren't _supposed_ to here till midday." Sandry was rambling and she knew it, she had just become extremely dizzy.

"It's almost midday now."

"It was only _breakfast_ when I came down!" and Sandry collapsed in exhaustion.


	3. The New World

**disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the Circle of Magic **

**a/n: sorry i couldn't update, my Internet was down, we got a new computer, i had to get my notes and copy off the old computer (it was given to my aunt), Internet was down again, and then my floppy disk needed to keep getting formatted every time I was at least half-way through with this chapter. well, anyway, enjoy**

**The Pursuit is On**

**Chapter 3: The New World**

"Percy, you say you have news for me?" Scrimgeourthe minister of magic asked of Percy Weasley later that night in his office. The office was round and full of comfy looking chairs, it looked like a place where you wished to divulge you secrets, magical portraits, where the occupants moved, were found on the walls. On shelves were books that held various anti-dark spells and objects that detected dark wizards.

Percy Weasley was a red-headed man of twenty-two. He was of medium height, wore horn-rimmed glasses, and dressed his best at all times, especially after the number of years he wore hand-me-downs from his two elder brothers, so he liked the best these days. "Minister, I did like you told me and followed Potter, Granger, and my brother around, it is like you feared, they are up to something. Earlier this evening they met with McGonagall and the rest of my siblings, using the invisibility cloak you lent me I listened in on their conversation. It seems that Dumbledore had a granddaughter."

"Yes, Gabriela, I knew of her. She past away years before. What does this have anything to do with Potter?"

"It seems Dumbledore hadn't believed in his granddaughter's death. He left a letter telling of his fears and worries, McGonagall is sending Potter, Ron, Charles, Bill, and Granger into the world where she disappeared." Scrimgeour stepped away from Percy and up to his desk and picked up the papers.

"If that is true we might have some leverage. What else did McGonagall say?"

"Well, sir this is the part I don't understand. She said, and I quote, 'she is not only Dumbledore's granddaughter, but he-who-must-not-be-named's as well.'" he paused and moved around, trying to see the minister's face and failing. "But I don't understand how that is possible, it's not in any record books that you-know-who had a child."

"It wouldn't, would it? Especially because his son married Dumbledore's only daughter. He would have been raised under foster parents to make sure he had the chance to be raised right. So, like Dumbledore to give second chances to people who don't deserve it." Scrimgeour left his desk and walked towards the picture of himself, of the day he was inaugurated, and looked at his serious face as he talked on and on about what to do about Voldemort. "Well, Percy get the aurors Akeldama, Clemens, and Delaney tell them to gather they're best. They're going to visit a new world."

_**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**_

"What is the latest news on Potter?" Voldemort asked his Death Eaters. They were in a large room that was lighted by a large stone fireplace that had dark creatures carved into it. A large table sat in the middle of the room, it's legs shaped like claws, Voldemort sat at the head, to his left was Snape, and to his right was Bellatrix. Lucious Malfoy sat halfway down table, his wife and son besides him. Across from them sat the man who was once known as Peter Pettigrew, but now was mostly called Wormtail. The other Death Eaters sat in between them, hoods and masks on. "Well? Is anyone going to speak up?"

A Death Eater that sat three seats down from Snape stood up and took down his hood and his mask out of respect for the Dark Lord. He had thick black eyebrows set over dark blue eyes that seemed almost violet. A thick long nose and thin lips. His cheeks were thin and swallow. His black hair was thinning. He wore the traditional black robes of the Death Eaters.

"Akeldama? It is rare when you have news about Potter. Isn't it your job to hunt down Death Eaters?" A evil laugh rent the air as Voldemort and his minions laughed. "So, what is it?" his voice cut through the laughter faster then a lightning bolt cuts through the air, because everyone became quiet before the first syllable was completely out of his mouth.

"Today, Clemens, Delaney, and I were called into the minister's office to give us a new mission. Potter, his two friends, and two Weasley's are heading to a different world to track down Lady Gabriela," like most Death Eaters they believe she would take after the Dark Lord instead of Dumbledore, "Dumbledore hadn't believed in her death even at his own end."

"And the mission is?" inside he was ecstatic, if his granddaughter was alive he could use her power to further his own. It was surprising that that son of his could create someone so powerful and he would have her on his side!

"To find and capture her for interrogation."

"Your new mission is to find her and bring her to me." _Gabriela will be my greatest weapon!_

_**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**_

Early the next morning the group set out for America by the knight bus. Floo powder was too dangerous, because the ministry would be able to watch their every move. Apparition didn't do for such long distances across oceans and could also be easily tracked. Brooms too could never support their weight and the weight of their baggage for too long and would be a slow going besides and they were compressed for time.

So Bill hugged his beautiful pregnant wife, Fleur, giving her promises to return as quickly as humanly possible. The gang got hugs from Mrs. Weasley,a plump red-haired woman. They shared jokes and promises. McGonagall shook each of their hands and gave them envelopes with instructions written on it not to open them till they were safely in the other world. Before they knew it, it was time to board the bus and head on their way to America and towards an old friend of McGonagall's called Weatherby.

What seemed instantly after they boarded the bus they were there in America. The Knight Bus, it's driver Ernie, and the new conductor George, helped them with their luggage before waving them off and leaving, all before the sun had fully risen here in America, them in front of a misshapen, and likely forgotten, bar, it's windows boarded up with crooked boards and graffiti was written all over, gang names and random stuff that made no sense to the British wizards.

"I wonder if this bar leads to another Diagon Alley or something like the Leaky Cauldron?" Ron remarked quietly to his companions enough.

"What are you? _Stupid_?" he, apparently hadn't spoken quietly enough for others not to hear, for standing behind them was a boy in his awkward teen years staring openly at the group in front of him. He wore baggy black jeans and a ripped white t-shirt, curly black hair fell carelessly in his dark blue eyes. A skate board leaned at his side. "This early in the morning?" At first he sounded like he thought they were about to go into the bar and, as Americans would say, "get smashed". "Muggles might have heard, you know," it was then they knew otherwise. "Name's Brock. You will be Potter, Granger, Weasley, Weasley, and Weasley." shaking each person's hand in turn. Everyone just nodded in shock in surprise at this strange boy's new entrance. "I'm one of Professor Weather's students." the group recognized the name but didn't let down their guard, underneath their jackets they gripped their wands, ready for a fight if it came to that, waiting to see if he told them what McGonagall had said Weather's wizard would tell them. "What was it she told me to tell you...?...Oh yeah...!...Professor Weatherby and Professor McGonagall met when they were twenty-years-old and were traveling the world. They ended up traveling together after they met in the Leaky Cauldron and have been friends ever since. They had faced plenty of dangerous plants, like the Devil's Snare, vampires, giants, trolls, and dragons. Their most memorable moment was when they barely managed to cast their first partronus which is a bear and a cat when surrounded by dementors in the Alps." The group raised their eyebrows at his monologue, he said more then he needed to, all he had to have said was McGonagall's and Weather's patronus.

Without another word the group set after Brock who jumped on the skateboard and began to led the way through the already thickening New York crowds. "She's expecting us at the center," he told them, gracefully twirling around a couple of men who stood at a food cart waiting to get their morning coffee, or better known as sludge.

"What the center?" Hermione asked her need for knowledge taking over her cool demeanor.

"The Center is a place for wizarding parents who both need to work in the day to drop off their kids. There is no chance of exposure. Teens, like me, who are already in school for their magic spend their summer days their hangin' and helping take care of the younger ones. My brother, sister, and I are some of them." he did a twirl around a man who was reading a newspaper as he walked, but accidental, or not so accidentally, bumbled into his, causing him to stumble into a woman in a red power suit, spilling the Starbucks coffee she carried all over herself and her pocket book that she carried in her other hand.

"You Punk!" the man shouted. "My _Vivienne Westwood _suit!" the woman shouted, making other, non-fashion people, look at her strangely. It was just a suit, albeit, a rather pretty one.

"Next time take a taxi!" Brock shouted turning quickly down a side street, the group closely behind him. "Jerks. The whole city is full of them," he commented off-handily to the people behind him. "Here we are," where they were they didn't know. The street was full of dirt and trash. Gangs littered the corners, sitting on broken down cars that had graffiti written all over it. All in all it didn't look like a place parents would trust there children to come safely from. Then they saw it.

"It" was a beautiful four story house that seemed to take up a good portion of the block, making all the other buildings look cramped. Muggles couldn't see it, Harry figured, because unlike everything else it didn't have a speck of garbage in it's yard, or any graffiti. The house was painted a light blue, the windows were shuttered and curtained, left wide open. Roses and sunflowers were planted in the yard. The door was thick and oak. The knocker was shaped like a rose. A wooden gate, painted the same blue as the house surrounded the house and yard.

Brock ignored the three gang members even when they stood as if to move towards them and cause them problems. Bill cracked his knuckles and with his scarred face it gave a formidable impression. But when they stepped through the gate, they saw the gang step back in shock, shake their heads,a and mutter to themselves that they were seeing things.

"Professor! Professor!" Brock called leading the way into the house. A hallway was painted a soft mint green, the floors had a soft white carpet on it. In every room they passed, it was the same, bright cherry colors, with soft white carpets. "Not everyone comes from safe environments," Brock murmured lowly to them as he headed up the big oak staircase that dominated the front hall. "I've brought 'em, Professor!" he called again, stepping out onto the second floor. There were eight doors leading off, the doors of which were closed, "Bedrooms," he lead them to the end of the hallway, opened up another door that hid another staircase. Two door lead off of it. "Third floor, infirmary and library. Forth is where the teachers and other helpers keep their offices. Professor, I...!"

"I'm sure she heard you Brock," a girl who looked like Brock said, softly stepping out at the throed floor. "You know Professor Weatherby hates it when people shout."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, Emily," he groaned at his elder sister, side-stepping her and beginning to climb upward.

"That boy," they heard Emily complain as they opened the door onto the forth floor. There were only two rooms on his floor. The one they stood in, a large circular room that was painted a deep red and the floors were a dark cherry wood. Desks of heavy woods lined the walls in front of book shelves on magical schools of the world and personal items, like pictures. There was a single door at the end of the hall. Brock left them there when the door open and a mysterious voice from the depths called out, "Come in Harry Potter,"

Slowly the group walked down the large room and stepped into the room. The door closed behind them without any help with a resounding thud. The person who had spoken sat behind a large wooden desk that took up most of the room. The walls were a plain white and the floor was bare. A fold-up bed sat in the corner, neatly made. Books lined the walls as did dark detection devices. The woman, for it was a woman, stood up and walked around the desk and shook Harry's hand. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance at long last. Whenever Minerva and I have time to get together, you and your adventures are all she can talk about. Oh," as she let go of Harry's hand and began to shake the others' in the group, "I hadn't introduced myself yet, have I? I am Julia Weatherby, the headmistress at the America's magic school. Now, shall we talk," she waved a hand towards the desk and instantly straight backed chairs popped up for all of them. "I hope Brock didn't give you too much trouble."

It wasn't hard to tell that Professor Weatherby had a one time been a beautiful woman. Her hair almost completely grey these days had probably been completely black just a few years ago, it was thick and it had some kind of inner luster. Her nose was so small it could be easily be missed or mistaken for a pimple that were set over simple brown eyes, her lips were full, her body generous. She wore simple looking robes of a midnight blue color. Her feet were covered ins simple slippers. Though in her sixties she was probably still desired by many men.

"Gave us a scare sneaking up on us, but no wasn't a trouble," Charlie assured her, sitting down in his seat as the others followed suit.

"That's good to hear," she breathed. "He can be a bit of a trouble maker," she confided, "but he has a good heart all in all.

"But to your problem," she went back around the desk and settled back into her chair. "Minerva said you need to get to the world were Dumbledore stashed his daughter and her family in. Don't act so shocked," she said, when they all did a collective gasp. "I was the one who helped them escape, like I'm helping you. Now..." from underneath her desk she pulled out her wand. "Phoenix wood, from another world, it can never burn with the core of a unicorn's hair." she went back around the desk and stood facing the group. "Let's go into the other room, there's more space there." She led them out of her room and back into the hall. With a wave of her wand she cleared the desks till their was an open space in the middle of the floor. She muttered a spell Harry and the others couldn't make out and a glowing circle appeared on the ground. She handed Bill, the eldest, a necklace, "that is to bring you and your companions back when your finished. Now, if your ready..." she waved her free hand towards the magic circle and Harry and the others stepped into it, "I'll see you when you get back." was the last they heard her say, before, with a flash of golden light, thew weren't in the room anymore. But in the woods full o"But of coursef tall, thick, and old trees. As luck, or Weatherby's skills, would have it, they were only a few feet away from the door of the cottage.

"Well, should we start?" Bill said, taking it in cheerfully and waving towards the cottage. Everyone agreed and started towards the house.

_**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**_

Minutes after Harry and the gang left the three aurors and their chosen men appeared at the Kids' Center. Without knocking, without thinking that innocents might get hurt, they blasted the gate open and walked in. They blasted the door open and walked in. Children's screams of terror were heard throughout the house. Down the stairs pounded Brock, his sister Emily, and Professor Weatherby.

"Who are you? What do you want here?" Professor Weatherby demanded of the men, whose cloaks hid their faces. She pointed her wand at them, ready to cast any spell to stop them from hurting any of her precious kids. "I asked you who you were!"

"Don't get your knickers in a bunch, granny," warned one of the men. "We want Potter and that's all."

Weatherby smirked at the aurors. "He's gone to the other world already. I expect you know about that considering that your here."

"But of course," Akledama said, signaling his men to get ready, "if he's there already, you'll just have to send us after him."

"And why, pry tell, would I do that?" she said, smirking at them. "I don't like bullies."

"Will you if, let's say..." he pulled his wand from beneath his cloak and pointed it at Brock, "threatened to kill the boy?" she glanced back and forth between the two, weighing her chances. Could see it Akledama before he hit Brock? No, aurors are trained heavily in speed casting. She lowered her wand in defeat from the aurors and cast the dimensional spell.

"There all you need to do is go in, it'll take you there," she looked down in shame.

"That a girl," he motioned for one of his subordinates to move through and into the circle, nothing happened at first. Slowly all the aurors got into the circle, once they were all in the light came again. When it was gone so were they.

"Professor why? I could have handled the punch," Brock said, proudly.

"I said I would send them into the world in return for your safety, I never said I would make it easy on them."

When the aurors opened their eyes and looked around they screamed. They were in the middle of a swamp and were sinking fast into the murky water. Tall trees covered in goo grew out of the swamp, the more adept wizards cast spells that shot out strings and pulled them up and over onto the dryer land. "That witch! How dare she!" Akledama growled as he helped pull out some of the others.

Delaney, a stooped back young man with thin blond hair, smooth baby skin, wearing baby blue robes, patted Akledama on the back, "At least we're in the right world." Akledama just growled in agreement.

"But where in the right world?" the third man in charge, Clemens, a tall black man with hair dyed green, wearing three rings in one ear and none in the other and black robes. "It'll take us a while to get where we'll need to be. "

"Shut up!" Akledama shouted, smacking the poor fellow over the head. He hated when others pointed out the obvious. "The cottage is near Emelan, so we'll go south."

"North, would be better," Delaney commented. "Not many swamps int he north."

"He's right," Clemens said, when Akledama began to growl again. Akledama also hated it when someone out smarted him. "Men! Let's move!" There were shouts of agreement and the troops began to head North towards were they hoped Emelan would be.

_**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**_

OK, it's not as long as I wanted it to be, but at least it's up. I know it sounds a little hurried, but I fear that my floppy will act up again, so this will have to do. any way i has everything i wanted in it.

thanks for those who reviewed.

please review this time too!


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